Boom, Bark, Bang, Blast
by gangsterdorothy
Summary: One event, four different outcomes. What if one thing about you changed the end result? Some violence. O/S


A/N: This is an experimental one shot. Some violence. Reviews as always are love

* * *

Fall

Boom.

That sound is intimidating.

It's happy, it's sad, it's loud as fuck. It's the sound of my heart hitting my rib cage. It's relentless as I round the corner of my upstairs hallway.

There was a noise. A loud crash, possibly shattered glass. I can't calm my nerves.

At first, I think its our dog Sam, but then I remember we gave him away earlier in the day. We are financially strapped and he had to go. I miss him right now, at least the sound could be him knocking over a vase.

It's the middle of the night. My wife is in bed, sound asleep, dreaming. Moments ago, she tossed and turned, her hand reaching out for me. I assure her I'm there, scooting closer to the comfort.

Her soft body against mine makes me feel like the king of the world and an asshole at the same time. She's curves, circles and cheekbones. I'm sharp, square, and scruff. The rubbing of my angles against her roundness soothes and frustrates me.

The thick shadows on the wall fuck with my mind. I see shapes that aren't there. I rub my eyes, but stifle a yawn. This house is so old, ants make the floor creak. This reminds me that I need to call the exterminator on Monday.

There is another noise. It sounds like the opening of a drawer. I hear metal jangling. I don't know how much further I can go. I want to be a man, but the unknown scares the fuck out of me. Especially now that I'm a married man and have to think of someone else when making decisions.

I first met my wife working as a jewelry store clerk. I've been told I could sell the luxuries of life to the most cynical of people. Selling jewelry seems like the place to make the most money. Sentimental girls standing in front of a hundred thousand dollar diamonds? The grunt work is done for me.

I notice she is by herself. I am the only available associate, so she's forced to deal with me.

I straighten my tie, as she browses the rings. "How can I help you today, Miss?"

She is startled by my greeting. "Oh, hi. I'm only looking, thanks." She leans over, looking at the top of the glass counter into the displays.

She is eying the engagement rings. "Are you thinking of getting married?"

"Me? No. I can barely get my boyfriend to take out the trash, let alone propose." She smiles shyly.

"Comparing trash and engagement in the same sentence? I don't think I've ever heard that before." I only tease. I love teasing her.

"I'm sorry; I'm not doing him any justice. He's a nice guy."

"Nice?"

"Yeah, he's a great guy?" She nods.

"Great?"

"Why do you keep repeating what I say?"

"I'm only restating what you say."

She shakes her head, returning her attention to the rings. She asks about a few, but doesn't want to try any of them on. Her eye catches a ring, a diamond surrounded by two sapphires.

"May I look at this?" She points to her choice.

I remove it from the velvety stand. "I'd say you're a size...six?"

She smiles. "Yes."

"And this just happens to be the correct size." I cradle her hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

As I slide it on her, pleasant warmth of electricity flows between us. I can't let go of her hand. All I can do is feel. All I want to do is hold her hand in mine.

We finally make eye contact. I watch her. She is not flinching. I'm not sure if she feels the same way. Her breaths are easy, her eyes unblinking. She looks from my eyes, our joined hands to the ring and back again.

I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to the punch. "I think I'd like to look at your earrings."

I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but it keeps her around longer and I smile.

And soon I see that smile more often. In fact, I wish to hold onto it forever. My favorite part is when her eyes twinkle right before her lips pull back. If I can't have her smile, I'd like that moment to come with me wherever I end up.

There is an even louder sound. I swallow hard. I feel the sweat on my forehead and staining of my shirt. I'm almost there, but I don't know what I will do once I get there.

I try remembering which planks in the floor don't creak. They all look the same in the dark. I proceed to guess which one it is.

I am successful.

I'm just outside the guest room that the perpetrator is in. I want to cry, I want to vomit.

I pray this person has their back turned as I peek inside.

I presume it's a he. He is tall, rakish and I can see a vague resemblance of a beard. His all black attire is having the desired effect except for the blonde hairs peeking out from his ski cap.

He is searching under the bed. We don't keep anything there, but he is digging further.

Should I make a move? He isn't a big guy, I can take him.

I tackle him from behind. I feel him struggle underneath me.

He reaches for something, but I can't see it in the dark.

I can't hold him down any longer. He manages to reach for a crowbar and hitting me in the shoulder.

I stand up, nursing my bruise for a brief second. He comes back at me again, but my hands and arms block his attempt.

I shove him back, he stumbles forward toward me. It is a game of cat and mouse.

"Honey, are you okay?" My wife, Bella is standing in the doorway.

He goes for her and I am livid. He winds up to attack her and I block his attempt.

"Call the police!" I shout back to her. This is a mistake.

Once my wife leaves, I know this can not end well. It is him and me again.

I expect him to strike me with this blunt object. However, the next thing I feel is the entry of a bullet.

And now I'm bleeding. I watch it stream down my shirt. The stark difference between red and white is the only thing I can concentrate on.

The man grabs a few more items, before stumbling out the way he came in. I hear a distant thud of boots hitting the leaf covered ground.

I'm on my knees, my hands pressing against the wound. But my palms can't apply enough pressure. Why is it so thick and streaming out of me?

I'm on my stomach, choking on blood. The iron is invading everywhere. It's warm and enticing.

I hear my wife scream and cry, but it's all underwater. I hear her wailing and praying. I can't speak, the liquid in my throat burning when I try.

Please, let me tell her I love her.

She flips me over to cradle me. I see her face one last time. I hear her one last time.

"Edward, I love you. Please. Please?!" She can't keep it together and I want to move my arms. Let me hold her one more time. But I am so drained.

I catch a glimpse of one final thing. The ring on her finger. The moment I met her.

And I hold onto it. I hold onto it so tight it takes the last of my life.

I can't keep my eyes open. This sleeping feeling is like a blanket I could wrap myself in it forever.

And then I'm gone.

*~~~~~~*

Spring

Bark.

I hate dogs, but Bella insists on adopting one. She says it completes the picture perfect image she's had in her head as a little girl. And what she wants, I will give her.

The saving grace is that the dog is not a puny girly dog. It's a German shepherd named Sam; the old owner had abused it. While I'm not a fan of dogs, I don't understand how anyone could beat them up.

We bring him home, and my wife is fixing up what will be the dog's corner in the kitchen. Me? I'm watching Sam, waiting for him and me to bond. His head is cocked to the side, probably doing the same thing. He's supposed to be man's best friend, but right now he's only a lump of fur and pointy ears.

"Sam? Come here, Sam." Bella slaps her thighs, beckoning the dog over. And he listens to her. She scratches his fur and shows him his new doggie bowl.

"I don't know about this." I tell her, staring at Sam lapping at his water. His tongue is long and drinking in the liquid quickly.

"What? Are you scared of dogs?"

"No. I'm not a fan of…interrupting what we have."

"I don't think it's an interruption. It's an addition to the family."

"But…" I'm not sure if I should say what I want to say. "…what about once we start having kids?"

She looks at me, slightly annoyed. "What do you mean by that?"

"Ugh, I shouldn't have said anything." I pinch the bridge of nose.

"You think having kids is going to ruin things?"

"No, of course not! I…I want kids with you, I want to have kids. I just…want to enjoy the time we have together alone. Without furry animals."

I attempt to step closer, wrapping my arms around her. She is resistant at first, but calms down.

"Bella, I love you and I'm selfish because of that." I whisper against her hair, breathing in the scent. Her ears are in nipping distance and I'm tempted, but I hold back.

She sighs, as we stand in our kitchen. This is our house, our dog. Our life.

We are one entity and anything we want to do on our own affects us as a whole.

This includes getting used to a third party in our marriage. "Okay. We'll keep him for a while. See how it goes."

"Good. Because I was going to keep him anyway." She turns around and gives me a peck.

Of course she is. There is no denying I am a whipped man.

This dog, turns out, is the devil in disguise. The second day we have him, he tears open the mailman's mailbag and envelopes spill out of it. Sam likes to bark at night and I end up buying earplugs.

The last straw comes when he chews holes in my one good pair of work shoes. We are first time home buyers, we aren't made of money.

"Bella, please. That dog is torturing us." I beg my wife with the dog barking like crazy in the background.

"He is being a dog. He needs to be trained."

"We can't afford obedience classes. And the dog food? It's expensive. The maintenance of this dog is expensive."

I am breaking her heart. She has no job right now and this dog keeps her company during the day. I can't stand seeing her lip quiver or her eyes water. I stand in front of the refrigerator and pretend to look for a meal.

"Okay, let me find someone that will take him." She whispers and I know it is taking every once of strength she has not to cry.

I also know that it will not be a pleasant night ahead. I deserve it.

Once in bed, we sleep. Around two in the morning though, Sam starts barking up a storm. I can hear him through the floor.

Then he is climbing up the first set of stairs. And then the other.

Now this dog wants to run a marathon in the middle of the night? So fucking glad he'll be gone soon.

He is thundering down the hall. I'm afraid if he were any bigger, he'd put holes in the floor.

I grumble to myself and flip the covers off. I hear him barking and growling as I step into my slippers. This dog is going to get a piece of my mind right the fuck now!

With clenched fists, I walk down the hall to the direction of the noise. Then, I hear a yelp. A _human_ yelp.

"Get the fuck off me you fucking mutt!" Unless Sam learned to use his vocal muscles, I think someone is in my house.

Someone is in my fucking house disturbing my family.

I get to the doorway and see Sam, his teeth firmly clamped around the intruder's shirt as he's on the floor. The shoulder of his shirt is torn and he's bleeding through it.

I'm shaking. I want to cry, I want to vomit.

"Honey, are you okay?" Bella stands next to me.

"Call the police." I tell her as I watch the intruder struggle to release himself from the firm grasp of Sam.

The men in blue arrive in ten minutes. They handcuff the guy and haul him off.

Sam is sitting as one of the officers pets his head. "What's your dog's name?" The man asks me.

"Sam."

"What a good name. If it weren't for Sam, he wouldn't have caught Mike over there. He's hit up a handful of houses in this neighborhood. You should be very lucky to have him."

The officer takes my statement and Bella's as well. The whole scene is wrapped up in about an hour.

I close our front door. Sam sits and looks at me, his head cocked to the side. I feel like he is telling me 'I told you so. You need me.'

"Eh, maybe you aren't so bad." I tell him before making a promise to keep him around a bit longer.

*~~~~~~*

Summer

Bang.

Fucking fantastic. My wife and I, against the wall. God, she is so hot. I couldn't have married a hotter woman.

The cabbie dropped us off…five minutes ago. And my wife got out of the car and I got a nice view of her ass. I grabbed it and ran us to our front door. I hoped that fucking dog wasn't around because I was having sex tonight.

I pull my wife to me and push her against the wall near the front door. I undo my pants. My fingers struggle to get her panties off.

I'm in heaven in a matter of seconds.

"Fuck, Eddie. Ung!" She is screaming so loud. Fuck, yes she is never this loud.

I go faster and faster, wanting her to scream again.

"Yes! Harder, damn it!" She grabs my shoulders, digging her nails into my skin. Her heels press into my ass.

I can't hold on any longer. "I…I…" I finally let go. My legs shake, I nip at her neck. Best orgasm ever.

We don't move. My head is spinning from an alcohol and sex induced bliss.

Bella and I finally let go of each other. She stands on her heels and stumbles. We try not to laugh too loud; the neighbors are asleep. Every time I bring my finger to my lips to shush her, we both break out in bigger laughter. God, she is so pretty when she is like this.

I'm bent over laughing when our little Pomeranian runs down the stairs. Sam knows how to ruin a moment, he is yelping like crazy. I wish we got one of those big dogs; I wouldn't have minded the loud barking. This thing is like an annoying high pitched alarm that goes off in the morning.

"Hey, come here." I pat my thighs, beckoning it over. "How about you shut the fuck up? Yes you should, yes you should."

"Edward?!" I hear panic in Bella's voice. Is she mad at me? She finds my annoyance kind of cute usually.

"What?" I look at her and then I hear it.

Bang.

Before I can think or do anything, I watch my wife fall to the floor. Her head is thrown back as she hits the wall. A round bullet hole is stamped into her forehead. Blood slides along the white.

"Bella?!" I shout. I'm shaking. I want to cry, I want to vomit.

I look for the source of this fucked up situation.

I glance at the top of the stairs and see a figure. His gun is pointing at me. He is massive, his position on the stairs and his dark skin deny me the chance to clearly see him.

Before I can say anything, he shoots. Bang.

I'm next to my wife. We watch each others life fade before our eyes.

*~~~~~~*

Winter

Blast.

I'm afraid if we don't get this water heater fixed that it will explode. I turn on the light in our basement. There isn't any leaking water, but I think I smell gas. I shut off the pilot light and secure the gas shutoff valve.

Before I can call the plumber, I watch as a rock is thrown into my basement window. I don't want to fucking deal with this right now. I heard there were a few robberies happening in the neighborhood, but they were all at night. Who the fuck robs a house during the day?

I want to show this smart ass. I hide behind a stack of boxes, watching the perp climb his way into my house.

He does his best to avoid the jagged glass created by the rock he threw. If he were smart, he would have used, I don't know, a bigger window. But now, I'm watching him climb his fat self into my house.

I hear him mutter about the layout of my basement. It is a bit cluttered and things are strewn about, but why does this fucker care?

The crook knows where to go and I'm surprised. He walks to the space underneath the staircase, where we keep our safe. This safe we bought also doesn't look much like one and we ordered it because it didn't look like one. And this guy knew what it was _and _where it was right away.

I decide to take a chance and approach this guy. He is bent over the knob, figuring out the combination.

I tip toe, avoiding the glass on the ground as much as possible. And remarkably, he gets it. Who is this guy? How did he figure it out so quickly?

He opens the door and sifts through a few things. Bella doesn't like wearing jewelry, but wanted to keep some of her family's heirlooms; her grandma's garnet ring, her mother's pink pearls.

And then I see him lifting my grandfather's cuff links. He held onto those things when he thought he never could, he fought in the war with those things stuffed in his boots. Those things have been in the family for a long fucking time, no way is he taking them. No fucking way.

I sneak up behind him and place him in a chokehold, he grabs onto my arm to get me to stop. He is lifting me off the ground as he struggles; I realize this guy is pretty big and this is not a good idea.

I search for a way to subdue him. There isn't much around me but boxes of clothes and extra folding chairs. Maybe I can pull a wrestling move somehow.

Shut up Cullen, don't be a hero!

I see a bottle of window cleaner in our basket of cleaning supplies. I stretch my hand out as far as I can and grab it. I give him a few quick sprays and he lets me go.

"Ahh!" He is screaming as he removes his mask. He is on the ground, his hands covering his face.

Then, I see it. I see the tattoo. He got the tattoo of a dragon on the side of his neck when he graduated high school. I listen to him tell me the story one too many times when he was drunk.

"Emmett?" I am shocked. I want to cry, I want to vomit. This man, my wife's brother, is robbing our home.

"Ah fuck, it burns!" He struggles to stand up and almost ends up in a pile of glass.

I pull him to his feet and escort him to our utility sink. He searches for the knob and splashes water on his face.

This man, who I thought I knew, became a stranger. I step back toward the stairs, never letting him out of my sight.

He finishes up and turns around to face me. He is squinting his eyes open and close, clearing out the chemicals stuck inside.

"Emmett? Are you…were you…trying to steal from us?" I can't breathe. This is all unreal.

He scratches the back of his head. "I'm…yes." He wipes his eyes with the front of his shirt.

"What possessed you to do that? Why? You…you barge-- No, you _break_ into my home and try to steal my belongings. _Bella's_ belongings."

He nods but doesn't speak.

"Emmett, I could've fucking killed you just now!" Not only was this a reckless act, but he obviously didn't give a shit about his well being.

"The pros out weighed the cons at the time." He makes no move to look at me or do anything. That dragon tattoo that was funny before became scary.

"And you were just going to steal? Just like that?"

He paused. "Not _just_ like that."

"Then like what? Robbery is robbery, Emmett. And from your own family?"

"Fuck, please give me a minute. That shit burns for a while." He seeks out an upside down paint bucket to sit on. His elbows meet his knees, as I watch tears hit the ground below him.

"Emmett, what's going on?"

"I'm in trouble." He is sniffling. It's hard watching this grown man cry. "I'm behind on rent, my mother thinks the worst of me."

I take a seat on the step, glancing at him through the empty space in the railing. I'm not sure if I should say anything.

"I can't keep a job to save my life, Ed." He doesn't look at me. I can feel the shame rolling off of him. "I knew how much all of that in there was worth. I heard you and Bella talking about it."

"And the combination?" I finally ask.

"I found that out too. You guys need a more discreet combination."

I guess our birth months and house number are too obvious. "Still doesn't make it right. Not anywhere in the ballpark."

Emmett looks up at me. He slowly nods his head and hangs it again. "Are you going to press charges?"

Do I want to kick this man while he's down? He wasn't my blood, but he was Bella's blood. Every decision we make affects the other person. Knowing Bella, she would want to help her brother. He can't go unpunished though, in one way or another.

"I won't press charges. But, I can't let you go either."

He brings his hand to his mouth, trying to hold himself together as his body shakes. I hear his breaths muffled by his palm. "I'm such a fuck up. I can't believe I did this."

Emmett and I sit in silence for a while. There is nothing to say. My heart is broken, but for both his shame and the situation.

But I can't be in the same room with him right now.

I call to him over my shoulder as I ascend the stairs. "And you're lucky Bella took Sam to get cleaned today. He would've bitten your fucking leg off."


End file.
